Clandestined
by Black Lace
Summary: "Just about every morning, she would come here with that picture. His eyes would twinkle as he waved at her, a bag of lemon drops clearly visible in his other hand...."


A/N: This is honestly my first Harry Potter fiction.  I only recently became a fan, having watched the DVD at my dad's house out of sheer boredom.  I wasn't very bored for long.  I watched it another three times!  The two characters that seemed to jump out at me were Dumbledore and McGonagall.  So, I came up with this.  I'm not sure if this is finished yet.  It seems a very odd place to end it, I know, but I had no more words left.  I probably will at another time when my eyes are telling me I need sleep.  ^^;  Please, read and review. 

          The sun slowly peaked in the east, just over the tops of the trees collectively known as the Forbidden Forest.  Like every morning at dawn, everything glowed in an orange light.

          From her perch at the east window of the highest astronomy tower, Minerva McGonagall could see for miles.  She let out her customary sigh as she watched the scene unfold, once again, before her eyes.  Time and again, she had sat here in the early morning, unable to get a decent night's sleep.

          With yet another sigh, she stole a glance at the object she held in her hand and returned to her silent yearning.  Just about every morning, she would come here with that picture.  His eyes would twinkle as he waved at her, a bag of lemon drops clearly visible in his other hand.

          Lemon drops.  It was one of the few Muggle pleasures she had known him to take joy in.  She chuckled under her breath, remembering a certain night many years before when they had rescued the Boy Who Lived, the last time he had offered her one of the little candies.

          Minerva looked at the picture again.  She loved Albus Dumbledore with all her heart, she knew.  There had been no way for her to tell him back in their own Hogwarts days.  And when she had taken the job as Professor of Transfiguration and Deputy Headmistress, Minerva figured she was better off immersing herself in her work.  It had worked for so many years, until Dumbledore had rejected the Ministry in their offers, instead accepting the position of Headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

          They had grown old together, but not in the sense she had hoped for since she had been eleven years old.  So many years together in a strictly platonic sense had done nothing to ease her aching heart.  Finally, she had experienced sleepless nights, finding herself in the highest astronomy tower until the morning sun had risen and it was time for breakfast.

          Today, however, she had finally given up.  The tears had poured down her cheeks all night as she had decided to leave Hogwarts, never to return.  Having been a Gryffindor in her school days, she knew this was the cowardly approach; but courage had completely abandoned her.

          Standing from her seated position, she let the photo of Albus Dumbledore float to the floor.  She wasn't about to care.  Turning around, she took one last look at the sun before deciding to leave the tower once and for all.  She marched for the door in a resigned manner, only to be met by none other than Albus himself.

          In vain, she nervously wiped away the trails of tears, avoiding his twinkling eyes at all cost.  This wasn't what she needed.  "Good morning, my dear Professor."

          "Good morning, Professor Dumbledore," she muttered after a silent moment.

          "Beautiful," he mumbled, looking out the window at the fully risen sun.

          "Yes…indeed," Minerva spat.  This arose suspicion in Dumbledore's mind.

          "Is there something wrong?"

          "No!  Nothing…" she stated a little to hastily for his liking.

          "I see."

          She hesitated.

          "I am resigning," McGonagall finally managed.  "I am no longer happy with my work here at Hogwarts.  I will have my letter of resignation on your desk this afternoon.  Good day."

          Without so much as a "by your leave" or an "excuse me," Minerva McGonagall left the astronomy tower, leaving behind a very confused and very disturbed Albus Dumbledore.  _At least I had the courage to say it_, she reassured herself.

          Back in the tower, Dumbledore curiously peered around him.  His eyes finally landed on the small paper on the floor.  It was a picture of himself, waving with a bag of lemon drops in his hand.  He smiled.  _Wait a minute…Minerva…sh-she must have dropped this!_

          "Dear me…" he whispered to himself.  He had timed that visit severely wrong.  With a sigh, he tucked the picture in his pocket and left the tower as his friend had only moments earlier.


End file.
